Happy Birthday
by Cowboys-and-coffee
Summary: Pre-Grey's. It's Addison's birthday, but it's not a really happy one. Little plot, lots of sexytiems.


"Happy birthday, Addi …." The words died on his lips as he caught the look on his girlfriend's face before she hastily lowered her head and scrubbed at her eyes with her fists.

"Addison?" Derek's voice dropped to a whisper as he moved closer to where she sat at the kitchen table, shrugging out of his coat as he did so. "What's wrong?"

She didn't answer, just lowered her head even more.

"Addie, hey," he started, searching for words to fix whatever it was that was wrong, wondering if it was something he did and finally deciding that it must be. "Um, I'm sorry. For being late. Study session ran long. I know I was supposed to be here …"

"It's okay," she interrupted him in a mumble, still not looking at him.

He dropped into the empty chair adjacent to her and reached for a hand that was still wiping tears away. She tried to pull her arm away, but Derek held on tight, bringing her hand down and placing it on the table, his own hand covering hers.

"Look at me," he said softly.

"I'm fine," she mumbled.

"Addison … look at me." He squeezed her hand gently. "Please?"

Finally, she sighed, then raised her head. Her eyes were red and puffy, the remnants of tears still visible on her cheeks. His heart dropped instantly at the sight.

"What's wrong, Addie?" he asked again.

He watched as she tried to smile, and he watched as she failed. "Nothing," she whispered, her voice breaking on the last syllable, giving her away.

"You can tell me, you know."

"It's nothing."

"I don't believe that."

"Derek, it was nothing."

"You were crying. It's something. You don't cry, Addison. Tell me what's wrong."

She shook her head but didn't say anything. He squeezed her hand again.

"Let me help you."

"It's nothing," she said, then clarified. "It's stupid."

"It's not stupid if it's making you cry."

"It is stupid."

"Addison, just tell me."

She sighed again, then took a deep breath, her eyes darting around the kitchen like she was trying to find some means of escape.

"It's nothing," she started again. "It's just … I thought …. No one said and I … It's stupid. Really." She forced herself to smile. "It's stupid. It's nothing that doesn't happen every year."

Derek frowned, trying to read into her words to decipher what she was not telling him.

And then realization set in.

"You thought everyone forgot your birthday," he said gently. It wasn't a question.

Addison flushed. "I told you it was stupid."

"It's not stupid," he told her. "It's not. And I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she said. "It's not. It's nothing."

She stood up abruptly. "Did you want to study now? We've got that exam tomorrow and I think I should really go over …"

"Addison, stop." Derek stood up with her, his hands grabbing her upper arms gingerly to keep her from walking away. "Let's talk about this. What else aren't you telling me?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I told you everything, Derek," she snapped, trying to pull away from him. He held on to her a little tighter, something she'd said earlier ringing in his head.

"What did you mean?" he asked. "When you said it's nothing that doesn't happen every year? What were you talking about?"

She tried to pull away from him again and this time she succeeded.

"Let's go study," she snapped, already walking through the kitchen doorway. "Or you can go home."

* * *

><p>When he entered the living room 10 minutes later, he found her curled up on the couch, glaring at a textbook in her hands.<p>

Carefully he placed the items he was carrying on the coffee table, then leaned over to pull the book out of her hands.

Instantly her head flew up, her eyes full of rage.

"Derek! What do you think …"

But the words died on her lips when she saw the glass of champagne and the slice of cake he was holding out to her.

He smiled at her.

"Happy birthday, Addison."

He watched as her cheeks flushed again, her eyes widening in surprise, the fury lining her face instantly draining away. Reaching for his own champagne and cake, he took a seat beside her. She studied him for a few seconds before tentatively shifting positions to be closer to him.

"Thank you," she told him, her voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned over to place a kiss on top of her head, feeling her start to relax into his side. "I didn't forget," he said. "Neither did Naomi, nor Sam, nor Mark, nor anyone. We're planning a party. We just thought we should do it a different day because of the exam tomorrow … but we should have said something. We should have told you."

She whipped her head around so she could look at him. "You wanted to surprise me?"

"We should have told you. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "You shouldn't be sorry. I should be the one who's sorry. And I am. I am sorry. I was being stupid. … I just … I just really hate this day sometimes."

"You hate your birthday?"

She didn't answer, and then he knew. Like a door suddenly opening into her world, he instantly understood. Bits and pieces of things she had told him, Archer's reaction when Derek mentioned they were planning a party for his sister, the words Addison had said in the kitchen — they all came together in one giant rush of revelation.

"Your parents," he started, not really sure how to ask her what he wanted to ask her. "They didn't … ? You didn't … ? What about all those parties rich kids are supposed to have?" He nudged her in the side, hoping she would understand he was trying to joke with her.

"Oh, I had parties," she said. "Huge elaborate parties."

He glanced at her face. The stony look she was back to wearing told him she wasn't kidding.

"Okay," he said, trying to keep the confusion he felt from seeping into his voice. He felt like he was missing something.

She took a gulp of her champagne.

"I didn't want parties," she mumbled. He could barely understand her, but he didn't want to interrupt her. "Not those parties. I hated them. All awkward and uncomfortable, with people who pretended to be my friends but made fun of me when I turned around."

"Oh." He didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry."

She finished the rest of her champagne in another large gulp. He refilled her glass for her.

"It doesn't matter now."

"And your parents," he started. "They never just … did something else?" He was remembering backyard barbecues and surprise trips to amusement parks or ice skating in Central Park. The living room filled with pink sleeping bags when his sisters got to have sleepovers. Ice cream cakes and birthdays spent at McDonald's.

Beside him, Addison shrugged. "Of course not. My parents never even acknowledged I had birthdays. Apart from the parties. But those were never about me."

Derek didn't know what to say. Instead he slipped an arm around her shoulders and drew her into him.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't have to be."

He felt her shrug against him, and then they were silent. He'd only known her for a year, only been dating her for 6 months, but he knew the girl next to him came from a world that could not be more different than his own in so many ways. With every little bit and piece she revealed, his heart ached for her, but he also knew the secrets she kept to herself were plenty.

"There's something else I want to give you for your birthday," he said into the silence a few minutes later.

"You didn't have to get me anything."

"It's not really something I got you." He tried to clarify. "More like something I want to say to you."

Addison twisted in his arms, moving around so she was facing him. "Okay," she said, sounding confused.

Derek took a deep breath, then reached for her hand, looking her directly in the eyes. He smiled at her, then started. "Addison Montgomery, I think you're amazing. You're beautiful and smart and talented and so incredibly kind. You're going to be a wonderful surgeon one day. You're also annoyingly stubborn and you have this crazy need to always be right. Some days you drive me insane, but that only makes me want you more."

He took a breath. "I love you, Addison. I'm in love with you. And I'm falling in love with you more and more each day. I just thought it was time you knew."

He stopped. She was silent, staring at him, almost in shock.

And then she sprang. Wrapping her arms around him, almost spilling the champagne that was left in her glass.

"I love you too!" she cried, pressing her lips to his.

He didn't waste a second. In an instant, he had their glasses on the coffee table, his arms wrapped around her, his lips and tongue exploring hers.

Every kiss, every touch. It only made him want her more.

Rearranging himself, he gently laid her down on the couch, adjusting himself on top of her so as not to hurt her. Her hands were in his hair, she was pressing herself up against him, getting as close to him as she could.

His hands started to wonder. He found the edge of her shirt and began to slide it up. He lifted her up a little so he could slip it up her back, breaking apart from her to pull it over her head.

She was already out of breath, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling. He kissed her hard on the lips, then started a downward trek. His lips found every inch of exposed skin. Her neck, her shoulders, her clavicle, the skin peeking through above her bra.

He reached behind her to undo the clasp, then pulled the lacy garment off her arms, exposing her pale milky breasts. His hands began to knead them, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. He took the right one into his mouth, sucking on it, biting gently.

He could hear Addison moaning beneath him, could feel her squirm a little, trying to bring herself closer to him.

He left her breasts behind, ignoring her soft whimper, and continued further south, tracing the planes of her stomach with his hands and his lips, his tongue swirling in her belly button, before his hands found the hem of her skirt, pushing it up and bunching the cloth at her waist.

His hands rubbed over her thighs, tracing patterns, before grabbing her legs gently and spreading her open just a little. His fingers began tracing the outline of her red lace panties, gently sliding over the thin silk straps and then down between her legs. He pressed two fingers against her center, through her panties, feeling the wetness already gathering there.

Dropping his head, he replaced his fingers with his nose, smelling her arousal.

Somewhere above his head, she moaned his name as her hips bucked slightly.

This time he slipped his fingers under the damp material, pressing them into her and beginning to rub circles, first lightly, then getting harder and faster, and then backing off again. She was writhing beneath him, and he knew she was getting close, but he wasn't ready for her to get there yet.

He slid his fingers out from under her panties and sat up. She gasped in indignation at the loss of contact.

"Der …. ek!"

He silenced her with a kiss, hard, on the lips. She moaned happily into it. He slid his hands down her sides, till he found her skirt, reaching behind for the zipper.

"Lift your hips up," he told her.

She did as he asked, and he left her lips to slide her skirt down and off her legs. He looked at her, lying there on the couch, clothed only in a pair of skimpy red lace panties, and he felt himself grow even harder.

A second later he was sliding her panties agonizingly slowly down her long legs, taking his time as he revealed her most intimate area. After a moment, his fingers resumed their place between her legs, rubbing, teasing, exploring her slick folds. His thumb flicked her clit, and she groaned in anticipation.

He dipped a finger into her entrance, coating it with her arousal. She moaned again, and he slid two fingers all the way into her.

Her hips bucked, and he quickly used his free hand to hold her down, while his other hand went to work. He pushed his fingers in, slowly, carefully, then removed them with the same care. He repeated this process, over and over and over, picking up the pace just a little each time.

"Derek, pleeeaseeee," Addison moaned. She was trying to grind her hips against his hand, trying to maneuver herself so he would press harder into the places she needed him to press.

With his free hand, he adjusted her legs, lifting one over his shoulder and the other over the back of the couch, spreading her wider and giving himself even better access. His free hand came to rest on her pelvis, his thumb pressing into her clit, rubbing hard circles on it.

His other fingers sped up, and a third one joined them. Faster, harder, deeper. Thrusting in and out, in and out, twisting, curling.

Addison moaned, her back arching. He could see her toes begin to curl, and her fingers trying desperately to latch on to something.

Her moans were getting louder and louder. Finally, he twisted his shoulder a little, adjusting her position and changing the angle. Another thrust, another flick and that was it. He felt her muscles clenching around him, her juices flowing everywhere. He left his fingers inside her as she rode out the waves, just watching her as she came.

When she finally caught her breath again, he leaned back up to kiss her.

"What do you say we finish this in the bedroom?" he grinned.

She nodded.

He climbed off her and stood up, but before waiting for her to move, he reached down and lifted her into his arms, Addison gasping in surprise.

He made his way down the hall to her bedroom, laying her down in the middle of the king-sized bed. He stared at her for a second, all long limbs and milky skin, her red hair long and mussed.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, quickly stripping off his own clothes.

She spread her legs as she waited for him to get ready.

"I love you," she whispered, as he positioned himself at her entrance, using the tip of his penis to spread the moisture around.

"I love you too," he told her. He leaned down to kiss her, sliding inside her in one quick motion.

"Happy birthday, Addison."


End file.
